The Price of Strength
by Sessha's Crazy
Summary: "I won't be weak anymore. I'm going to get strong. The strongest ever, and then, no one will ever have to get hurt for me, ever again. You hear me? I'm going to be strong! I'm going to be great!" A glimpse at Kurama's childhood and the pivotal moment that made him the ruthless thief we know today. Strength always comes hardest to those who need it most. Oneshot.


I've recently been rewatching Yu Yu Hakusho, and a bunch of little details just suddenly seemed to jump out at me. They all came together to make this fic.

The usual disclaimers apply.

* * *

The whip fell from his hand, reverting to the rose it had once been, only to land in the growing pool of red at his feet. His left hand clenched his shoulder so hard he could feel the little rivulets trickling from where his claws pierced his skin. He hung his head, gritting his teeth as he resisted the urge to close his fist all the way, tearing out a chunk of his own flesh. Experience had taught him it was an exercise in futility, the flesh would grow back, just as it was before, he'd only cause himself unnecessary pain.

His youki flared wildly, causing his silver hair to whip in his face. Golden eyes closed as he began to regulate his frantic breathing, forcing himself to calm down. Cool, he had to maintain his cool. Panic could get him killed. Just like the men at his feet. He gagged, turning away, shaking his head as he tried to put aside what he'd done. The sickly sweet stench of the blood clogged in his nostrils, breaking his concentration. He had to get out of here. But he couldn't leave, not the way he was.

The youth stared at the bodies of his attackers, forcing himself not to see the bleeding and unconscious men, but what he could salvage. He located the smallest hunter whose shirt hadn't been damaged too severely. It still dwarfed him, but the shoulders were intact and that was all that mattered. He could get a better replacement later. He walked over, trying not to flinch away from the grisly sight. Hand still gripping his shoulder, he struggled to remove the article of clothing. The mark on his back burned mockingly, reminding him of what he was. What he always would be. Struggling, he managed to get the stained shirt over his head, only releasing his shoulder once the cursed tattoo was safely hidden by the fabric.

Then, turning, he ran, fleeing the carnage he'd wrought. He wiped at his eyes, sending up a quick prayer for the men he'd injured, hoping they'd be alright. He hadn't meant to hurt them, but they'd left him no choice! He'd tried to spare them, but the bounty hunters…they just wouldn't stop! Bile rose in his throat and he retched, stopping to double over as he spilled his pilfered lunch. It wasn't his fault. It was the mark. If the stall vendor hadn't grabbed the shirt, if his shirt hadn't torn, if the bounty hunters hadn't seen the mark…

So many ifs. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, mind echoing with the words of his pursuers. He was a hunted man. He hadn't even done anything and he was hunted. It wasn't his fault. It wasn't his fault…

* * *

The young youko trotted back to the cave, arms loaded with stolen food. "It's me," he called, voice cracking painfully with the changes of adolescence. His ears pricked as he waited for the one inside the cave to respond.

"Squirt?"

Kurama's brow wrinkled with worry as he slipped inside. He sounded weaker. That wasn't good. Hopefully the food would help. "Coming. I found some food! We'll feast tonight!" He tried to make his voice sound cheerful, hoping that in the darkness of the cave, his big brother wouldn't notice that the shirt he wore wasn't the one he left in. Or that it was splattered in now-dried blood.

He carefully made his way to the back of the cave, where Satsu lay as he fought off infection. Currently his brother had propped himself up on his elbows, honey-brown eyes dark with worry. "Kurama?" He said, voice wavering. "You were gone a long time. How'd you get the food? You didn't…?"

Kurama shook his head vehemently as he knelt beside the only one he could still call "family". He'd left that path behind when they'd escaped. "No, I didn't get the food that way." He said evasively.

"Then how?" Satsu's arms shook with exertion and he lay back down, hand moving to where his side had been pierced with the poisoned arrow he'd taken protecting his sibling. Kurama noticed the motion and stopped, turning to his brother.

"Does it hurt?" He asked, worry coloring his voice. "Here, let me see."

Satsu batted his hands away. "I'm fine, stupid, now don't distract me, how'd you get the money for the food?" Sweat had broken out over his brow, and his face was flushed, but even sick as he was, he still clung to life with the fierceness and tenacity of a tiger.

Kurama looked down, shame burning his cheeks. "I didn't," he said, unable to lie to his brother. He busied himself with changing the cold compress on Satsu's forehead. "I couldn't find the money. I…I'm sorry, Satsu, we needed the food, and more bandages, I…"

"Kurama…" Satsu groaned. "You didn't steal it, did you?"

"I had to!" the younger brother cried. "You need it!"

"No, Kurama! Stealing is wrong! You might be branded, but you aren't a criminal! We're Youko, we get what we need honestly, we aren't evil!"

Kurama's shoulders shook. Satsu could say that, he was the stronger one. People looked at him at they saw strength, a big, strapping young man who could be put to work. Not him. Kurama was the small one, the weak one. The useless child his parents didn't want. The fey little boy with the pretty face who couldn't do anything right. There was only one thing people wanted when they looked at him.

"I'm sorry, Satsu." He lied, voice muted. He clenched his hands in his lap as he turned away to fix Satsu a meal. "I won't steal again, ok?"

Satsu sighed with relief. "Good. Now, gonna tell me what happened to your shirt?"

Kurama flinched. "I hoped you wouldn't notice," he mumbled, turning to spoon some soup into his brother's mouth. "Here, sorry it's cold."

Satsu avoided the broth as he got a closer look at what his kid brother was wearing. "Kurama, there are bloodstains! What happened!" He forced himself to sit up once more, grunting in pain as the exertion cost him.

"Lie down, you'll make it worse!" The boy cried. He set down the bowl, forcing his brother to lie flat once more. It frightened him to the core to see his hero so weak that an undersized kit of fourteen could overpower him. Of course, it only annoyed the older fox.

"Stop, I'm fine," Satsu grumbled. "Now tell me what happened or I'll beat it out of you!"

Kurama bowed his head, ears drooping. "When I grabbed the fruit, the vendor caught me. I got away, but I tore my shirt. There were some bounty hunters…" He trailed off, voice catching.

Satsu's fever-flushed face went white as a sheet. "You didn't lead them here, did you? Kurama, we have to get out of here!" He struggled to rise once more.

"No!" Kurama pushed him back down again. "I…I stopped them…they caught up with me, and I…" The tears he'd been holding back burst forth, and he lunged forward to sob into his brother's chest. "I hurt them!" He wailed.

"Oh, Kurama…" Satsu wrapped his arms around him, holding him as he cried. Kurama was such a gentle hearted boy, for him to be forced to harm another living soul was the cruelest thing he could imagine for the sensitive youth. Satsu trembled with anger and fatigue. He was the older brother! He should be the one taking care of Kurama, not the other way around! But instead, he was bedridden and little Kurama was being forced to be the grown up. As if being sold into slavery by his own parents hadn't been bad enough. His eyes darkened as he remembered the state he'd found the fetching silver fox in. Poor kit…

Eventually, the younger brother's tears stopped, and he pulled away. "I'm sorry, Satsu, for being so weak. I'll try to be stronger, like you."

Satsu grinned weakly. "Sure, brat. You do that. Now gimme some soup. I'm parched."

* * *

Two days later found the young silver fox sneaking back into town. His brother's infection had taken a turn for the worse. Without medicine, he'd surely die.

Keeping a close eye out for the bounty hunters or anyone else that might cause trouble for him, Kurama followed his nose to the nearest apothecary. He knew stealing was wrong, but he had no choice. And despite everything, it was still fun, still the one thing he could do for himself. Kurama might not have been much of a fighter or a tailor, but he was a hell of a pickpocket.

* * *

Kurama raced back to the little cave, grinning with his success. He was sure to get scolded, but now, Satsu would be ok! He'd live, and get better, and they'd run far away, where no-one would know his slave brand for what it was and they'd live their lives in peace. Satsu had mentioned farming. Kurama liked growing things. Plants were kind, peaceful things. Yeah, he could be a farmer.

"Hey, Satsu!" He called as he raced into the cave. "I got it! I got your-"

He stopped short, eyes going wide as the medicine he'd held aloft so triumphantly fell from suddenly boneless fingers to shatter against the cave floor. "No," he whimpered, trying to deny what was happening. "NO!"

At his entrance, the bounty hunters from before turned to him, dropping his brother's bloody and beaten body. Satsu opened one swollen eye, and croaked, "Kurama…run!"

The biggest of them smirked. "Well, boys, what did I tell you? I knew he'd come back eventually! We got us a nice package deal! The thief that kidnapped the property, AND the stolen property itself! We'll get paid double for this!"

His companions chuckled to themselves, and the nearest reached for him. "Now come on, boy, and be a good kid. We ain't gonna hurtcha, even though you deserve it, for what you did to us!"

The hand so close to his face shook Kurama out of his shock. He turned to flee, only to find the exit blocked by another demon. The second demon snatched him up, laughing. "Gotta admit, he sure is a pretty one, I can see why his owner's so keen to have him back! What a pretty face he's got. Wouldn't mind a sample myself!"

The leader threw him a disgusted look. "Touch the property and it'll be your head, Haku. This is a retrieval job only, boys. Now string him up. Don't forget the other one. Just the head'll do."

Kurama struggled in vain as ropes were wrapped around him head to toe. He screamed, pleading for them to stop and one of the brutes drew his sword and lifted his brother by his dark grey hair. Horrified, he watched as head was separated from neck in one clean cut.

"NOOOO!"

Something in the boy snapped, then. His young power surged, causing the discarded seeds from last night's dinner to sprout. Blood sprayed everywhere as vines shot out to impale his captors. He hardly felt it as he hit the floor with a thump, eyes locked on his brothers severed head.

* * *

Kurama stared at the fresh grave, tears coursing down his cheeks. He'd labored hard to dig Satsu the perfect grave. "I'm sorry, Satsu," he said, voice cracking. "You should have listened and left me. I was weak and stupid. I got you killed. I'm sorry!" He took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders as he wiped his tears away with dirt-caked hands. "But I won't be weak anymore. I'm going to get strong. The strongest ever, and then, no one will ever have to get hurt for me, ever again. You hear me? I'm going to be strong! I'm going to be great!"

Kneeling, he pressed a seed into the freshly turned earth. A small push of youki, and a tree sprouted. Gritting his teeth, Kurama continued to push out his energy until the tree was grown tall and strong, just like the grave of the man it now protected, just like he would some day become. Then, without a word, he turned and walked away.

* * *

The tree still stands, a giant looming over the surrounding forest. The villagers stay away, as the clearing where the tree stands is surrounded by vicious plants of every kind. Yet somehow, the villagers say, every year, on the anniversary of the tree's sudden growth, a red rose appears at its base, a tribute to the great warrior who finds his eternal rest in the shade of sturdy branches.

* * *

That was a lot darker than I intended. This is a completely different story than I wanted to write, but I like it nonetheless. My inspiration for this comes from many places. I've always been fascinated by the enigma that is Kurama. We know so little about him, how did he become what he is today? Why did Karasu scare him so much? Why did he make the comment about brothers during Yusuke's fight with Jin if he's an only sibling? Why had he never known a mother's love until Shiori? Why is he so protective of those he cares about and merciless to everyone else? What if Kurama, being a criminal, had had a run in with the type of tattoos the Miguru seals were based off of? I hope I answered these questions and more.

Also, for some reason, I love the idea of Kurama being a small, weak little thing as a kid. It's adorable.

~Sessha's Crazy


End file.
